


Mondays Need A Restraining Order

by celticdreamz



Series: Fic Requests [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Hawk Hill, HawkHill, Implied Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-20 21:50:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2444414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celticdreamz/pseuds/celticdreamz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><a href="http://hailmaliahale.tumblr.com/">hailmaliahale</a> asked: Barton/Hill: maria is getting stressed out and exhausted every day at work, and Barton is concerned for her. Bonus points for established relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mondays Need A Restraining Order

"Hey, Boss. Happy Coffee Day."

Maria Hill peeked through her fingers. Standing in front of her desk was none other than Clint "Hawkeye" Barton holding two paper cups. He'd caught her with her face buried in her hands in an attempt at trying to block out the epic piles of paperwork on her desk and focus on how to phrase a rather caustic email with as few four-letter words as possible.

"You don't have to call me that," she replied wearily. "I'm not exactly your boss anymore."

Barton just shrugged, handed her a cup, and plopped down in one of the chairs facing her desk. "Old habits. Looks like they die hard after all."

She didn't need the sarcastic smirk to know he meant the fact that she was working late, as usual. Privatizing global security meant doing more with less more often. Sitting back in her chair, she took a sip from the lid of the proffered cup and raised an eyebrow at the syrupy sweetness.

"Your favorite. Double caramel macchiato," Barton's smirk deepened while an invisible set of horns sprouted from his forehead. "With extra whipped cream."

The innuendo hit home, just like one of his arrows, and Hill could feel an embarrassed flush crawl up her neck. Barton was the only one to have made it past her walls, and into her bed, during the last decade. It had all started on an op that had gone sideways, and ended with the two of them patching each other up in a flea bag of a safe house. He'd promised her no strings, no commitments, just an opportunity to enjoy an evening of procreational activities with a willing partner. 

It was exactly what she'd needed.

Since then, Barton had made himself her "guardian hornball". He always seemed to know when she was getting too stressed, and too frustrated, to do her job right. Granted, the idea of him pinning her to her desk hadn't occurred to her anytime in the last six hours, but she could definitely use a reboot of sorts.

"Tell you what. Why don't you bring that coffee with you, and we'll go down to my place. Maybe change into our PJs watch that horseman show you like, and just relax. No pressure."

"You don't wear PJs, Barton," Hill replied, knowing exactly what she was walking into.

"Nope," he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. "Don't tell me you're gonna pass up a chance to see my bare ass. You usually can't keep your hands off it."

She nearly choked on her coffee, which could explain the deepening flush in her cheeks. "Shut up, Barton."

"Only if you come back to my place," he replied with another mischievous smirk. "Or maybe that's come at my place."

"Barton!" she half yelled, half laughed and wadded up a scratch piece of paper before throwing it at him.

"Do you always have to get so physical?" he teased before running out of her office. He paused at the doorway just long enough to stick out said, thankfully clothed, ass and dare her. "If you can catch me, you can spank me!"

Forty-five minutes later, her macchiato sat forgotten on his coffee table, her clothes were strewn about (also forgotten) on his floor, and they were both enjoying some much-needed "nekkid time" spooning on his sofa. Needless to say, neither one of them was paying much attention to the goings-on in Sleepy Hollow.


End file.
